Yosemite -Day 1- 6/28/2009

All the sites were available; reservations were not being taken yet. I had opened 4 windows, each representing a site I found attractive in the valley. All I had to do on each window was hit reserve . The clock was ticking down while I repeatedly hit the reserve button on the window of my first choice. Each time the reply was "reservations are not accepted at this time." I knew reservations were not being taken yet, but I was playing it safe as my clock may not be in sync with theirs. I continued taping reserve until I got a page back that said "This site has already been reserved". Mind you, the clock for reservations could not have ticked more than two seconds since opening and I have DSL! So I closed the first window and hit reserve on the second window. It came back "This site has already been reserved" and I got the same thing from the third window. Arrggg! I was down to the last window that was already prepped with my reservation dates. I hit the reserve button and got back a page that said "you have reserved this site"!

Victory! Six months in advance. It felt a little like an Ebay snipe. With this reservation secured we had an anchor around which we could build our trip.




We awoke to a multitude of small harmless insects covering our van and camper. Whatever the attraction was for them it seemed to pale in comparison to the hold the bugs had on Elise. With her occupied with creepy crawlies, Trey sleeping again in the van, and Ian tied down in his car seat, Katrina and I were able to break camp quickly without the fear losing a child to the creek. We were loaded and leaving the campground in record time.





Although unfair to the campground, we were glad to be leaving Portagee Joe. Had Portagee Joe been in North Carolina it would be in high demand. Instead it is at the foot of Mt. Whitney and in the shadow of Whitney Portal Campground. It is destined to perpetual and unfair comparisons to one of the most gorgeous campgrounds the country has to offer. Also we had reservations at another campground in one of the finest parks the country has to offer. We were feeling both a push and a pull. So we left and as we were pulling out of the campground we noticed some folks who had arrived late the night before. Although they had a VW camper, at least one guy preferred sleeping in a tree. It seemed a fitting goodbye from Portigee campground.




We headed north on 395 leaving the town of Lone Pine and Portegee Joe Campground behind. Inyo Forest was visible to both our right and left as mountains that still had dashes of snow in the darker higher crevasses. For a while there were some brown hills to our left that stood between us and the Sierra Nevadas beyond. They were called the Alabama hills and were the home of the "Monster Rock" area we drove through the day before. They began to peter out and eventually disappeared altogether as we continued north.





One of the more disagreeable tasks we had to check off our list for the day was a visit to a grocery store. The groc. we visited in Lone Pine the day before was far to expensive to use as anything more than a dinner stop. We were planing to spend the next 5 nights in a large park and didn't want to depend on park wares any more than necessary. A full stocking of dry goods was needed, so we were on the lookout for a WalMart. Although we spotted some interesting older vehicles during our trek north, we didn't find a WalMart. California doesn't seem to like stores that cater to frugality. We did, however, find a Vons. Initially I was disappointed by all the high end finishes that adorned the interior of the store. It oozed with the appearance of high priced goods like a Harris Teeter back home. And it was expensive... unless one buys in bulk. I got 5 boxes of Frosted Mini Wheats-the real stuff- for $1.50 a box. Smoking! We were also able to cheaply stock up on a few other dry items. We never saw another Vons but we kept a keen eye for one. Thumbs up!




With the van and camper loaded with food we continued north and up. We were gaining in altitude and began to find ourselves among the sort of pines that thrive in higher elevations. They were getting thicker and the snow that had always lurked in the distance seemed much closer. Eventually we spotted Mono lake to our right. Having read about the lake online Katrina had hoped we could make it part of the trip. Regretfully that didn't happen as we were not sure how far our destination was or what the travel conditions would be along the road we had to take, so after refueling in the town of Lee Vining we climbed toward Tioga Pass.




The grade often forced us to the side of the road to let traffic pass and Trey and Elise took to counting cars as they accelerated by us. They counted to 12 one time. We were slow and the traffic heavy but I guess that is as it should be on a road that leads into Yosemite. Soon we were at Tioga pass and waiting for our turn to flash our park pass at Yosemite's gates. We were at 10,000 feet, melting snow was wetting the edge of the road and the skies had a brittle quality that we in North Carolina experience only in winter. This was not the Yosemite I expected. This was better...and we pushed on.




After entering the park we continued through Tulomne Meadows. There were photographers, cameras atop tripods, attempting to capture deep lush fields laced with streams that shattered the sunlight even after leaving the grass for thick forests. Beyond the trees mountains raised the horizon above the tree line and the snow they held seemed to emulate the clouds above. This was a photographer's paradise. Ansel Adams didn't fish in the dessert. Smart.




We continued past massive outcrops of granite often dotted with climbers, past gnarled trees forcing their roots through fissures in the granite and one lake that played host to kayakers just off a sandy beech. As the lake receded behind us, the forests thickened, the heights of the trees increased and some appeared to be shod in form fitting halos of moss.The moss would stand two or three inches straight out of the bark it was rooted to and at times the sun caught the moss such that it would glow an iridescent neon green. Staggering. Everywhere we turned sights begged us to stop, immerse, experience the moment.




We did finally stop, although briefly. We had been driving down hill through a tunnel with trailer in tow. The tunnel was long enough for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and cause whatever was just outside the exit to disappear in an intense wash of daylight. I felt blind; I slowed. Then as I adapted to the sunlight I thought 'check the traffic!!' as a distracted parent pushing a stroller crossed my path. It was a moment lived in slow-motion and terrible clarity. I was fully immersed in the experience. It was not a transcendental or aesthetic moment. ;) Luckily I had already begun to decelerate, without which the anti-lock brakes would not have been sufficient to avert horror. We came to a stop just outside the exit of the tunnel and over looking our first view of Yosemite Valley. Katrina took the pictures. When I was younger I doubt we would have gotten those pictures as I likely would not have slowed do to my temporary blindness.



(In the years after college I recall wondering when I would feel like an adult. I realize I feel like one now. When in the last 20 years did that happen? If I had to choose any one moment, it would have to be the birth of Trey, my first child. It seems it took me 28 years to reach adulthood.)






We continued down into the valley and finally sidled up to the Merced River. We passed waterfalls and vacationers tubing with the river's currents. At one point the air had even taken on an other worldly faintly orange hue. I turned to see the sun was shinning through the wind blown mist of a waterfall. Could we have been inside a rainbow? But I had to focus on driving having gotten lost amid one way roads that seemed to have been patterned after figure eights....overlaid. Soon we found our campground and site. Then after making camp we walked to the one of the park stores to get a feel for how much we would have to depend on our supplies. With the exception of bread the park grocery store was well priced. After I gave the camping supplies a good looking over we left.




Once outside a begging squirrel eyed the children as they ate ice cream on cones that Katrina bought them. After Katrina and I finished off Ian's ice cream we all made our way back to the camper by way of the Merced river. Don't let the river tubers fool you; the river was cold and we fought to keep the children dry.


Back at the camper we transferred all our food to the bear locker and readied ourselves for bed. We felt part of the lucky few.









out